Ginger Krinkles
Page 10
My hands were folded in prayer at my heart, which was beating a million miles an hour. “Namaste,” I told them. The wish I hadn’t even dared to name was the one that could make my dream come true—I could stay. We clanged glasses and talked into the night, and toasted every good thing we could think of.
“I never did rent out your apartment, Ginger. I knew things would work out,” Olive said.
“To Ginger Krinkles,” yelled Lauri. “The best cookies I ever had. I think they were magic.” More cheers, more toasts.
“What are you going to call your new company, anyway?” Frankie asked. “PRostitute? with the P and R both capitalized? PRomiscuous?”
“PRosper,” I said. Maybe I had been thinking about it. My friends clapped.
Frankie actually let V. Hickle drive his Tood Fruck, Fireman Robert looked snuggled in for a long winter’s nap, and Melissa was going to take Lauri home. I hugged them all, so tight.
“It’s a Christmas miracle,” Melissa said, hugging me back.
“I knew we couldn’t get through this without someone saying that.”
It was cold and dark by the time I went inside my apartment, that was still mine. God bless Olive. I stood on the squeaky spot and just teetered back and forth.
I turned on the twinkle lights and saw Joe’s tin of cookies. I thought about eating them, but I was too full from the day’s news and drinks.
I looked around at all the taped up boxes that I could start unpacking. There was a knock at my door. I looked through the peephole. It was Joe. Not Noel. Wearing a Santa cap.
“Open up, I know you’re in there. Have you been naughty or nice?”
I hugged myself and leaned against the door. “I’ve been a very good girl,” I said from my side of the door.
“I have a lump of coal for you.”
“No thanks. I’m a good little elf. I do have something for you, though.”
I opened the door. He looked so good. Olive thought he looked like a husky Adam Levine. But he was solid and real, not some imaginary wish from elf dreams.
“Come in. I am so glad you came by. I made you some cookies.” He had a package in his hands, which was beautifully wrapped in swirly silvery foil paper with a glittery gold bow. I can’t even tell you how much the old me hates glitter. Those freaking sparkles get all over everything. A nightmare for those who are good housekeepers, so as you can imagine, I would be finding pixie dust until the Summer Solstice. But I smiled, because it was pretty, and the new me was filled with anticipation to see what was in that beautifully wrapped package. Oh. Another metaphor.
Joe read my note and opened the tin. He sniffed the cookies and took a big bite. “The best cookies of all time,” he said. “Go on. Open your present. I know how much you like to bake.” He smiled, and ate another cookie in two bites.
I didn’t burst his bubble and ripped open the paper and pulled off the top of the box. It was a … “What is it?”
“It’s a cookie plate,” he said with his mouth full. “I made it. It’s blown glass. See, that’s supposed to be a heart, if you squint your eyes it is almost anatomically correct.”
I laughed. “It’s hideous. I love it.” It was red, and orange, and purple, and blotched, and bubbled, and awesome.
He chewed and brushed the crumbs off of his lips. “Go on, put some cookies on there.”
I shrugged. “All gone.” I tapped the side of his cookie tin. “Yours are the last ones.”
We both smiled. “You can make more,” he told me. “I’ll be the official taste tester.”
“That’s probably not going to happen. I have a confession. Make that two. I’m not a baker. I hate to bake. Those cookies? They were my gifts this year, in a one-time only deal. Don’t get me wrong, they were pretty awesome. Or so I’ve been told.”
He finished another one. “They’re delicious. Wait. You didn’t eat any yourself?”
I shook my head. “No. They were for presents.” I took a breath. “Well, I tasted one, just to make sure they were edible.”
He gave me a thumbs up.
“They might even be magic.”
He nodded.
“Seriously, I think there really is something extra special about them.”
He waited.
“I might be an elf.” I flicked my hair behind my ears, wondering if he could see they were definitely pointier.
“Can’t say I disagree with that, either,” he said.
“Everyone I gave cookies to had some amazing dream come true.” I watched him. “Lauri is expanding her Yogasm studio, Frankie’s Tood Fruck is a big hit.” He smiled. “My sister is going to have a baby.” I hugged myself. “I can’t believe I’m going to be an aunt. Olive is in love with her fireman, and even that little hot rod V. Hickle seems so happy dating Frankie. And all this good news, great things, everyone’s hearts’ desire, happened after they ate my cookies.” He ate another cookie.
“My grandmother was pretty mean. But, I’m sure she wanted good stuff for our family. And whether she meant to send me a message or not, she gave me Ming, and that molasses, and that crazy poem. She gave me a second chance to not be like her. I kind of like giving people good wishes, and isn’t that what elves are supposed do?”
He finished another cookie. He nodded and stood up. He wasn’t smiling. Why do I like that so much? He pulled me into a hug and kissed the top of my head. He pushed me two steps back to position us under the mistletoe. He leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“I got my wish, too.”
Winter Solstice Salutations from the universe.
Ginger Krinkles
2/3 Cup Vegetable Oil
1 Cup Granulated Sugar
1 Egg
4 Tablespoons Molasses
2 Cups Flour
2 Teaspoons Baking Soda
1/2 Teaspoon Salt
1 Teaspoon Cinnamon
1 Teaspoon Ginger
—Additional 1/2 Cup Granulated Sugar
Mix oil and sugar, add egg and beat. Stir in molasses. Sift dry ingredients together and add to mixture. Place spoonful of dough into separate bowl of sugar and roll into uniformly sized balls. Bake at 350 degrees for 10-15 minutes on cookie sheet lined with parchment paper. Enjoy!
Also by Dee DeTarsio
All My Restless Life to Live
Haole Wood
Ros
The Scent of Jade
The Kitchen Shrink
‘Til Somebody Loves You